


do you wanna build a snowman?

by girlygirl14534



Series: The Adventures of Amy [25]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Baking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Cabin Fic, Cabins, Campfires, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Cold Weather, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Cozy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, Hot Chocolate, Hot Tub, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Love, Marshmallows, Multi, Romantic Fluff, S'mores, Seasonal, Smut, Snow, Snowball Fight, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Bucky Barnes, Vacation, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlygirl14534/pseuds/girlygirl14534
Summary: cabin getaway with your two favorite men! all the cozy winter feels!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Adventures of Amy [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903927
Comments: 17
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

You pulled up to a beautiful cabin blanketed by snow. It was a perfect winter picture. 

Almost _too_ perfect. 

“If that creepy little girl from the corn maze pops up inside that cabin, I’m breaking up with y’all,” you said.

Your boyfriends laughed. 

“That would’ve been a nice touch,” Bucky said. “We’ll make sure to do that next time.” 

“I’m warning you, Barnes,” you said. 

Steve shook his head at you two and walked toward the cabin. He made a show of opening the door and asking you and Bucky to stay outside while he checked for horror movie characters. A minute later, he came back and gave you the all-clear. You were grateful to enter the warmth of the homey cabin. 

“See? Nothing creepy,” Steve said. 

“I don’t know, Steve. You checked this whole place out pretty quickly. I don’t think you were very thorough.” 

“You’re right,” he said. “Let me do a quick once-over.” There was a worn plaid couch sitting in front of the fireplace, covered in crocheted blankets. Steve lifted it and looked underneath. “Nothing here,” he said dutifully. “Don’t worry—I’ll keep looking.” He checked behind the pillows of the armchair and underneath the coffee table. 

“Alright, I think we’ve checked enough,” you laughed. 

“Are you sure?” He lifted you up and checked under you, then lifted Bucky and looked under his feet. “Alright, we're clear,” he said with a cheeky smile. He took the bags to the room, giving you a chance to appreciate just how perfect this place was. The window seat was calling your name, practically begging you to read there. You were gazing at it longingly when Steve’s off-key voice interrupted you. 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” 

You laughed. “Sure.” 

“Oh. I thought that would take more convincing. We prepared an entire musical number.”

“Not we. You,” Bucky corrected. 

Steve shot him a look. 

“Come on, let's go and play,” Bucky huffed in a sing-song voice. 

“Let’s do it,” you said. 

You wrapped yourself up in a thousand layers to brave the cold, while the boys were content with light jackets. Even bundled up like that, you still shivered. You cursed their warmth as they made fun of you for looking like the Michelin man. 

“Listen, I’m no Elsa,” you said. “The cold _always_ bothered me, by the way.” 

There was a thick layer of fresh, soft snow to work with. You hadn’t had much opportunity to build a snowman growing up, but now that you were trying to scoop enough snow for the base, you were realizing how much hard work it was. _No wonder only kids do this crap._ You were deciding whether or not you should just make a baby snowman with the little bit that you had packed together when the first snowball whizzed by your head. It made landfall just to the left of Steve, who was working on the hind legs of his reindeer. When you looked at Bucky, he was pretending to be working diligently on his snowman, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. 

Steve returned fire, managing to graze Bucky’s arm. It wasn’t long before you were in a full-blown snowball fight. You were able to get a few good hits in despite your limited range of motion underneath all those layers. It also helped that the boys went very easy on you. They did not extend that same mercy to each other. When Bucky hit Steve in the chest with a snowball, Steve fell to the ground dramatically, clutching his chest. 

“I’m hit!” he yelled. “Nurse!” 

You matched his drama, running to his side and stroking his face. “Stay with me!” you cried. You proceeded to pretend to give him mouth to mouth, but it was really just a tongue kiss. 

“I’m cured!” Steve said when you pulled away. He suddenly reached out and batted away the snowball that was coming over your shoulder. 

You turned to face the thrower of the snowball. “Get over here right now, soldier! That snowball could’ve hit me! I’m a nurse! Do the Geneva Conventions mean anything to you?” 

“To be fair, I have committed a lot of war crimes in my day,” Bucky joked as he made his way over. “But I knew Steve would never let you get hit with a snowball.” 

You prompted him to lay down in the snow next to Steve and then you straddled him. “You have been bad.” 

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Kiss you. Angrily.” You kissed him just the way he liked, sucking on his bottom lip and getting him to let his guard down, allowing you to shove snow down his shirt. 

Bucky gasped at the cold. “I’m gonna get you!” he said as he got his own handful of snow. 

You tried to get away, but you couldn’t even scramble up to standing with all the padding of your coat. “No! Please! I surrender! If you put snow down my shirt I will die.” Your boyfriends laughed at your dramatics but you were serious. “Steve! Help me out here! I’ll be shivering for _weeks!_ You won’t have a functional girlfriend until I defrost in the spring!”

“Good point. We should get you inside where we can cuddle you and make sure you drink plenty of hot chocolate.”

“Yes. And we have to make sure to get you skin to skin contact. That’s the most effective way to share heat.”

You laughed. “You are such a fuckboy.”

“I am not a fuckboy. I just want my girlfriend to be warm.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just help me up.” 

Bucky went to pick you up, but Steve whined that he needed medical transport. Bucky rolled his eyes but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. He picked Steve up and placed him on his back before carrying you bridal style. You should have been used to his strength by now, but the fact that he didn’t seem remotely weighed down by the two of you was amazing. You and Steve kissed over Bucky’s shoulder but didn't want him to feel left out so each kissed his cheek. He smiled as you got back into the warm cabin. 

They built up the fire and you all changed into warm, dry pajamas. You went to the kitchen with the boys to prepare the hot chocolate. You and Liv had tried and failed to make hot chocolate bombs, so you had a lot of half-circles and amorphous blobs of chocolatey goodness. First, the spheres had cracked when you tried to pop them out of the mold. You had tried to fix it, but the heat of your hands started to melt the chocolate. In the end, you’d had a sink full of dishes and no Pinterest-perfect hot chocolate bombs to show for it. They may not have exploded when hot milk was poured over them, but they still tasted darn good, and you brought some on this trip. You had tried to salvage the presentation with some drizzles of white and dark chocolate, but they still looked half-eaten. You laughed at Bucky’s face when you unveiled your creations. 

“They taste amazing. I promise!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said as he warmed the milk on the stove. 

When it was ready, you sat down on the couch with your mugs. You sat between Steve’s legs with his arms around you. It felt like a chill had taken up permanent residence in your bones. You were shivering pathetically and Steve laughed at you. You had come a long way from that coffee shop on the first day you met, and yet here you were: shivering, cuddling with Steve, and drinking rich hot chocolate with plenty of whipped cream. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Steve,” Bucky said. “You used to shiver just like that after a gust of wind on a sunny day. I’d have to hold you tight for hours until you warmed up.” 

“Oh, shut up, Bucky. You liked holding me.” 

“I did. I _do_.” 

Bucky sat behind Steve on the couch and held you both tight until you had warmed up enough to read a book without your shivers shaking the pages. You all had brought something to read. Bucky had a huge pile of Poison Ivy comics and Steve had a Flavia de Luce novel. He had loved mystery books as a kid, but re-reading the old Hardy Boys books with a 21st-century eye made him ready to read a mystery from a different perspective. You recommended this series about an 11-year-old girl sleuth. While you loved a good mystery, you had brought an erotic romance novel with you for this cabin trip. 

This one was particularly steamy, recommended to you by Camilla. The princess was finally about to hook up with her royal guard and you were reading as fast as you physically could, trying to get to the good stuff. Normally, you had a good poker face when reading these types of scenes (which was essential for public transit), however, the steamiest scenes were best enjoyed in the comfort and privacy of your own room. After pages and pages of brushed hands, stolen glances, and late-night conversations, the princess and her guard were on a tour of the countryside, away from any prying palace eyes. Things were getting real filthy real quick. 

Your reading material greatly contrasted the purity of the moment. You and your boyfriends were piled on a couch in your PJs, sipping hot cocoa by the fire and reading books. And all you wanted to do was defile the moment by addressing the growing desire between your legs. You shifted uncomfortably, trying not to sigh as he kissed her passionately, his strong hands tugging at the front of her bodice.

“Baby?” Bucky smirked at you. He could always tell when you were turned on. “You seem a little cold still. Maybe you need some skin to skin contact?”

You nodded and clothes started innocently coming off. When your pants were off, your boys could tell how aroused you were. 

“What are you reading that’s got you this turned on?” Bucky asked. 

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “just reading up on the latest advances in the Dewey Decimal System.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm!” 

“I would love to learn. Do you mind reading it out loud?”

“Sure. The Dewey Decimal System is a great system for librarians and civilians alike. It…Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not reading about the Dewey Decimal System.” 

“Yeah, I thought ‘Queen’s Guard: Desire Unbound’ was a strange title for a book about library organization.” 

You laughed. “The book is about a princess and her royal guard. There’s a ton of sexual tension between them and they’re on a tour of the kingdom, far away from the palace. They’re truly alone for the first time. Before now, it’s been almost-kisses and brushed hands and covert glances but things are heating up.”

Steve put down his book. “I’ve gotta hear this.” 

The boys looked at you eagerly to read. You don’t know why your face got so hot—you were currently reading to people who you had done much more explicit things with. You put on your best reading voice:

“‘They weren’t in the palace anymore. Here, their stolen kisses could turn into much, much more. They were freed from the confines of preserving her honor. The flame inside her was allowed to burn brighter than it ever had before. The wildfire consumed her, and she threw him onto the bed. He was pleasantly surprised as she got on top of him, but he had to take control now, make the most of the little time they had together. He deftly flipped them so that he was on top of her. Her breath caught in her throat as his large, rough hands traveled up her thighs—’” You shivered as Bucky’s hands caressed your legs, mimicking the actions of the scene you were reading aloud. He urged you to keep reading. 

“‘He ripped her underclothes off with his hands, leaving her bare before him—’” You gasped as he followed the actions of the book, quickly and gently relieving you of your underwear. Again he encouraged you to keep reading. 

“‘He pressed a soft kiss to each hip and took her hand and placed it on the back of his head. His actions were rough and then soft, like the ocean. Their bodies mimicked the pushing and pulling of the tides. His head between her legs, he sailed her seas with his tongue. It was the closest she had ever felt to heaven, to the stars, the divine. He delved deeper and deeper into her folds, coaxing the moans out of her mouth. He—’ Fuck! Steve! It doesn’t say anything about kneading her heaving bosom.”

“Well, lucky for you, Princess, you have _two_ royal guards,” Steve said.

“Keep reading, Princess,” Bucky said. 

“‘He n-n-needed her louder. A rough finger joined his hot tongue and she screamed so loud it would’ve alarmed the guards had he not sent them away—’ Bucky! Fuck!— ‘She-she clutched his head desperately. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline, the way she yanked at his hair might have been painful. He smirked before continuing his ministrations. Wanting to hear more of her sweet sounds, he turned his attention now to her pearl—-’”

“Her what?” 

“Clit.”

“Got it.” 

“Oh, God! Um...‘He was sure someone had heard her now. He had to be quick before someone investigated. One hand reached up to cover her mouth while the other—’”

“You know what?” Bucky gently took the book out of your hands and tossed it to the side. “I think we’ve got it from here. And you can be as loud as you want.” 

You kept your fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, occasionally running your fingers through it and scratching his scalp, which you knew he loved. And you were certainly very loud. Loud enough that the soldiers would be at the tent’s entrance any moment now.

…

You abandoned your reading in the living room and spent the rest of the afternoon in the bedroom, snuggling and kissing (and sucking and licking) until dinnertime. After dinner, you decided to make s’mores for dessert. 

“We were going to make a campfire outside, but I’m afraid you’ll turn into an icicle,” Steve said. “We can roast our marshmallows in the fireplace.” 

“Thank you! I like to roast my marshmallows slowly and I wouldn’t last 5 minutes out there!”

You and Steve put your marshmallows on a stick. You pulled up the ottoman close to the fireplace so you could sit on it and comfortably hold your stick above the flames and slowly rotate it. You loved marshmallows that were golden brown on the outside and gooey on the inside. It took a while to get there, but it was always worth it in the end. Steve, on the other hand, was the type to stick his poker straight into the fire and pull away a flaming marshmallow. He blew out the flame to reveal a blackened marshmallow. He ate it straight off the stick. And then immediately spit it into his hand because it was too hot. And then dropped it on the floor because it was still too hot. One second pause and then everyone was laughing. Bucky cleaned up Steve’s failed marshmallow. You took Steve’s hand in your free hand and kissed his palm. The minor burn was already healed but he still said “I’m cured!” when you kissed him. 

Bucky was content to eat marshmallows out of the bag while watching you and Steve. The next time Steve blew out his marshmallow, Bucky was ready with a chocolate-topped graham cracker and together they assembled a s’more without sustaining any more burns. A while later, your marshmallows were perfectly roasted. In that time, Steve had already burnt four marshmallows and gloated the whole time about how his method was more efficient. You ignored him. You had roasted three so that the boys could try it your way, which you maintained was superior. 

“It’s amazing,” Steve said. “But I’ll never have the patience to make them like that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make ‘em for you,” you said.

“Really?”

You nodded. 

“Would you do _anything_ for me?” 

You would, but something about his tone made you hesitate. “Yeah?” 

“Would you go outside and look at the stars with me?” 

You could only imagine how cold it would be out there without any warmth from the sun. You sighed heavily. 

“Yeah—”

“Please? We have insulated blankets that should—Did you just say yes?” 

You nodded. “Let’s hurry up and go before my sense of self-preservation kicks in and I change my mind.” 

Apparently, the insulated blankets worked better if you _didn’t_ bundle up, so Steve carried you out in your PJs while Bucky laid out a blanket on the ground. You all laid down on it and pulled another blanket on top of you. You were cold for a few minutes, even with the boys holding you, but soon there was enough body heat built up under the blanket to make the weather bearable. You could finally focus on the picture above you. 

The sky was vast and limitless and so beautiful. You were glad Steve had convinced you to do this. The only thing left uncovered by the blanket was your face, and for a while, it was worth it to watch the celestial light show—a dazzling array of stars and constellations, with the occasional shooting star. You had never actually seen one before. It was magical! The first time you did a double-take, certain your eyes were playing tricks on you. But then a few minutes later you saw another white streak race across the sky. You felt like the cosmos was letting you in on a secret, showing you one of its wonders.

You watched the sky intently, hunting for your next glimpse of a burning meteor. You now understood beliefs that these were traveling spirits or the tears of a saint. Hell, after your third sighting you started to believe in the magical, wish-granting abilities of a shooting star. You would have made a wish, but you couldn’t think of anything that you wanted and didn’t already have. You considered wishing for the assurance that you really would get forever with them, but that request seemed too important to leave in the fickle hands of fate. Fate may have brought you three together, but it was your love, commitment, and dedication to each other that kept you together. You thanked the stars for aligning several times over to facilitate your union, but it was your own hands that would shape your destiny: a long and happy life together. 

You found their hands under the blanket and held them. Steve was tracing designs onto the back of your hand with his thumb and you transmitted the love notes to Bucky, slowly rubbing the back of his hand. Steve rolled onto his side so that he was facing you and cupped your face with his free hand. He was leaning in to kiss you when he stroked your face and stopped. 

“Your face is _freezing_!” he said. 

“Duh,” you said. 

“I mean _freezing_ , freezing. Like, if I licked your face, my tongue might get stuck.” 

“Five bucks if you lick her face,” Bucky said. “I dare you.” 

“I’m not falling for that again!” Steve said. “My tongue was stuck to that lamp post for hours!”

“Half an hour, tops.” 

“It felt like hours with you laughing and pointing me out to all the passersby!” 

“Bucky!” you scolded. “That’s a dick move!” 

“It was funny, though,” Bucky laughed. 

“Well, _I_ dare _you_ to lick your arm,” Steve said. 

Bucky raised his right arm to his mouth. 

“Uh-uh,” Steve shook his head. 

Bucky sighed and lifted his left hand to his face, contemplating. 

“Bucky, don’t take the bait,” you said. 

“Yeah, Buck, if you’re too scared—”

“Oh, shut up. You couldn’t even lick our girlfriend’s fa—” 

Steve grabbed your face and licked from your chin to your temple. 

“Ew! Steve!” you giggled. You quickly wiped his saliva away. 

“You were saying?” Steve asked smugly. 

Bucky sighed and brought his hand closer to his face. His tongue darted out quickly, so the tip barely made contact with his palm. He looked over at you and Steve triumphantly, but neither of you was impressed. That hadn’t even been a real lick! 

“You fuck your girlfriend with that tongue?” you asked. “That was one weak lick!” 

The blanket shook with laughter. 

“I thought you were on my side here!” Bucky said. 

“If you’re gonna accept a dare, you can’t half-ass it,” you said. “You saw the way Steve licked my face—all in.” 

Bucky sighed and licked from the base of his palm to his fingertips, but instead of rolling smoothly off the pads of his fingers, his tongue got stuck to his middle and index fingers. He gently yanked his fingers a few times but no luck. When he yanked harder, he made a pained sound and gave up. He turned to you and Steve and glared at your giggling figures. He was saying something that sounded a whole lot like “I hate you guys,” but it was hard to tell with his fingers glued to his tongue. 

“What was that?” Steve asked. “You love us?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head and repeated his sentence, taking great pains to enunciate his message of hatred. It was a lot clearer this time, but you still had fun with it. 

“Ohhhhh!” you said. “He said we’re the greatest things that ever happened to him!” 

“Aw, Bucky,” Steve said. 

Bucky tried again to pull his fingers off his tongue but they didn’t budge. 

“Let’s go inside and get some warm water on that,” you said. 

Steve stood up and bundled you into the blanket. 

“I feel like a burrito,” you giggled. Steve walked inside and Bucky trudged behind you, dragging the bottom blanket. 

Steve didn’t put you down once you were inside, instead holding you up and saying to Bucky, “Sir, did you order a burrito?” 

Despite his best efforts, Bucky cracked a small smile. “No,” he lisped. 

“Really? This burrito contains only the highest quality ingredients! 100% perfect girlfriend! I assure you that she tastes amazing.” 

Bucky finally cracked, laughing awkwardly around his hand. 

Steve finally put you down and you grabbed a cup of warm water from the sink. You had Bucky lean his head over the sink and you poured the water until his fingers unstuck from his tongue. He looked at you and Steve and shook his head. You shared a laugh. 

“I can’t believe you made me do that,” Bucky said. 

You held out a hand to him. “Let’s get you to bed, Flick.” 

He took your hand and let you lead him to the bedroom. “Flick?”

“It’s from A Christmas Story. We’ll watch it tomorrow.” 

“Can’t wait.” 

You were ready for bed first and flopped onto the bed. 

Steve tossed a pair of fuzzy socks onto the bed in front of you. “We thought your feet might get cold,” he explained. 

“That is so sweet and so thoughtful, but I kind of don’t like socks.” 

“What do you mean you don't like socks?” Steve asked incredulously. 

“Who doesn’t like socks?” Bucky wondered aloud. 

“I just don’t like them,” you shrugged.

“But your feet always get so cold,” Steve said. 

“Yeah.” 

“But you won’t wear socks to warm them up?” 

“I don’t like the way they feel!” 

“I have never heard of someone being against socks,” Steve said. 

“I like socks when I’m wearing shoes that require socks, but that’s it.” Steve looked perplexed by your sock policy. “What’s it to you?” you asked.

“Well, your cold feet have a habit of finding our warm legs during the night,” Steve pointed out. 

“I see. You don’t care that my feet are cold. You care that I put my cold feet on your legs! And you wanted to trick me into thinking that you were doing something nice for me! That is diabolical!” 

“We weren’t trying to trick you,” Bucky said. “Just provide you a solution for your cold feet.” 

“I have a solution.” 

“And what’s that?” Steve asked. 

“Your legs,” you laughed. You had never consciously warmed your feet up on their legs, but it sounded like something sleeping you would do. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Bucky grumbled good-naturedly as he got into bed with you. 

“Really lucky,” Steve said, as he slid in on the other side of you and turned out the lamps. 

“You two are the lucky ones,” you retorted. 

“No arguments here.” 


	2. Walking in a Winter Wonderland

_Steve._

Steve woke up in the morning curled around you, as always. The first thing he saw when he woke up was purple satin and brown skin. The silky texture of your bonnet tickled his chin. While he got made fun of for being an early riser by you and Bucky, he loved the view that it afforded him. He got to see how peaceful and beautiful Bucky’s face was in deep sleep. He got to appreciate how you curled up like a cat when you slept and practically purred when he kissed your shoulder or rubbed your hip, which he was wont to do when he awakened and saw his two angels lying next to him. You normally slept with your back to him, but today you had your head buried in his chest, nuzzling his warmth. 

He spent a couple of minutes contemplating how he could never hope to capture this sight (and the accompanying feelings it stirred in him) with paints or a pen. His entire world, right there in his arms. Bucky was cuddled up close behind you, curled around you like Steve normally was. Bucky was sleeping a lot more soundly than usual. Usually, Steve didn’t get more than 45 seconds before Bucky felt Steve’s eyes on him and woke up. It was like he was never asleep—not really—like he wanted to be ready for the fight at a moment’s notice. Here at the cabin, he was sleeping in—peacefully curled up with his girlfriend, not a care in the world. Brow unfurrowed with worries or nightmares. Steve was hesitant to wake you two. 

But if there was anything Steve loved more than seeing his partners sleeping, it was watching you wake up. Bucky always gave him that slow, easy smile that made him feel at home wherever he was. Bucky’s smile always started before he opened his eyes. It was like he was already waking up with a smile on his face in anticipation of seeing his partners. That smile always gave Steve butterflies. Steve normally got his smiles from Bucky as you snoozed on. Steve would go for his run and you’d reach for him in your sleep, wiggling at the loss of warmth, but Bucky would take over, and with his strong arms around you, you’d settle back in. Steve would get back and shower and Bucky would start on breakfast and at some point you’d wake up and pad into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and mumbling a groggy “Morning,” before retreating back to the bedroom to get ready for the day. On occasion, you just went back to sleep and they’d bring you breakfast in bed. 

Some glorious mornings, by the grace of God, Steve woke up without his mind racing, without the need to burn off that excess energy, outrun those thoughts. This was one of those mornings, and he could’ve stayed there forever, watching you and Bucky. But then you started to move. You pushed back a little from Steve’s chest and tilted your head up towards his like a flower seeking sunlight. Your eyes didn’t open, but you puckered your lips almost imperceptibly and he gave you the kiss you sought. You smiled. No groans like when you normally woke up. Steve saw your hatred of mornings as a challenge to give you something good to wake up to. But this morning, for a lot of reasons, was different. You woke up rested—far away from the troubles of the city, both Steve’s boyfriend and girlfriend were sleeping well. Steve was relieved. You’d all had trouble sleeping in recent weeks. 

Steve admired your face, which was always fuller in the mornings. Your full lips were even plumper and your face had a softness that Steve loved. Complete vulnerability. Steve wished you could have that same openness in your waking hours. He wanted you to trust him, show him your whole self without fear, and give him the chance to prove to you that he wasn’t going anywhere. He thought you knew how much he loved you, but he obviously hadn’t been doing a good job of showing and telling you how he felt. Because if you really knew how he felt about you, you’d never think that he could grow tired of you, that there could ever be a scenario in which he wouldn’t want to be with you, or that letting you go wouldn’t absolutely ruin his life. It took everything in him to offer you the option of leaving. 

After everything that happened with the stones and the snap, Nat told him that he had to start being more selfish. And he was. He saw a future for himself with a wonderful woman and an amazing man and he went for it. He didn’t try to deny himself, talk himself out of it, or push his desires deep down and ignore them—he took a risk. And it paid off. More than he ever could have imagined. But he made a promise that he couldn’t keep. He promised you and your family and himself that he would keep you safe. He failed. He didn’t know that he’d ever forgive himself for that. He’d been getting reports that you were still a little jumpy at work and the scar on your forearm regularly reminded him of that terrible time. But for some reason, you wanted to give your relationship a second chance, and Steve was too weak to deny you. He didn’t think he’d be able to re-adjust to life without you. 

That’s why he ran every morning. So he didn’t have to sit with thoughts like those; thoughts that were too big for his brain and his heart to contain. So he kissed you. Your lips, your nose, your forehead, your eyebrows. That last one made you giggle. He looked for somewhere else to make you giggle and kissed your nostril. It flared in surprise and you giggled harder. One hand lightly shoved his chest, and if you were more awake he knew you would have said “ _Ste_ vie” in that sing-songy, half-scolding way that you didn’t know that he adored. He kissed the area under your chin and you laughed. 

“ _Ste_ vie.” You finally said it. He grinned.

“Morning, baby.”

“What time is it? I refuse to open my eyes before 9.”

Ah, yes. Your weekend/vacation rule: Wake me before 9 and feel my wrath. Bucky always tried to stop Steve from testing you, but he had so much fun seeing if he could wake you up so good that you didn’t even care it was 8:43 am. 

“9:45.”

“Nice try, Rogers,” you said, keeping those beautiful brown eyes firmly closed and denying Steve access to their gorgeous depths. 

“I’m serious!” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, likely story. I don't even think you're physically capable of staying in bed past 9.” 

“To be honest, neither did I. And yet, here I am.” 

You opened your eyes, narrowed suspiciously in the way that always made him laugh. You turned to look at Bucky, who was somehow still sleeping peacefully. You looked back at Steve as if to confirm that you were really seeing this. 

“I know. Crazy, isn't it?” 

“He’s so precious,” you said under your breath. Steve found it adorable when your southern accent peeked out.

Bucky stirred, but neither of you made a move to pretend you hadn’t been staring at him. 

“Precious?” were the first words in his gravelly morning voice, the one that always made Steve want to hear more of it, especially if it was moaning and shouting your names. 

_Is this moment too wholesome for me to suck his cock?_ Steve wondered. But the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't get the idea out of his head. 

Bucky always tried to keep himself under such tight control. Even his laughter was restrained most of the time. He just couldn’t let go and accept that they had won the war, that he was safe. Even in the bedroom, he was always the picture of control. Except during blowjobs. Then he had a harder time controlling himself, especially if Steve deepthroated him while you licked his balls. Steve knew that would be a tough position to accomplish in bed, so the next best thing was his neck. You always whispered the dirtiest stuff in their ears. 

Steve was plotting while you confirmed “Precious,” and kissed Bucky on the nose. He smiled brilliantly before opening his eyes. They landed on you first. 

“Morning, Princess,” he said in that way that was teasing yet sincere. 

He locked his eyes on Steve. “Prince Grant.” 

Steve blushed. He wasn’t used to being addressed by his royal title like you were. He kind of liked it. 

“I want your cock in my mouth, Prince Buchanan.” 

Steve internally kicked himself for always being so bad at finding the right moment and words to express his sexual desires but hoped to God that his partners found it cute. (You did.)

You laughed. Bucky smirked. “I don't think that request was formal enough,” he teased. “I am royalty after all” 

“Ummm...” Steve said, heating up again. 

“Prince Grant requests an audience with your majesty and his royal staff at once,” you said in a confident manner that befitted true-born royalty. Steve wondered how you accomplished that. 

“I read way too many books,” you explained. “Royal is my second language.” 

“That's funny, I thought our names were your second language,” Bucky said. 

Steve could feel you rolling your eyes at Bucky even though he couldn't see it. 

“Oh, you're gonna get it,” you muttered under your breath. You pulled the covers back for Steve and curled into Bucky's side, attaching your lips to his neck. His eyes closed in pleasure. Steve was so glad the two of you were on the same page. 

Steve tugged Bucky’s pants down quickly. He was going to get right to it, but he kind of wanted to make it last, to make Bucky feel as desperate as he made you and him. Steve wanted Bucky to feel the absolute agony of your lover holding back on you, so he started with a slow lick. 

“Not you, Stevie,” Bucky whined. 

Steve never had the heart to tease him or deny him. He wanted Bucky to know that he’d always give him anything and everything, happily. You, however, loved to tease. Steve thought back to the charity gala where you had gotten your revenge for the movie theater. It was a maddening experience. It was bad enough having to wear those toys in a setting where they were expected to maintain polite conversation, but watching you dance with Thor and Pietro? Seeing the way they looked at you, watching the hand at your waist like a hawk, seeing you laughing at their dumb jokes, not looking up once to see if your boyfriends were watching because you knew they were, content to leave the toys on at a punishing tempo and then just throw your phone in your purse??! You knew exactly what drove them crazy and exactly how to use it. You all knew what buttons to push on each other. Which is why Steve licked Bucky's balls slowly, so he shuddered. Steve made eye contact with his partner in crime: you. You put Bucky’s metal fingers in your mouth as Steve pumped Bucky’s dick and traced his balls with his tongue. 

When Bucky swore and then panted your names, you teased, “What is that? Your 30th language?”

“27th,” Bucky corrected. 

…

Bucky insisted on making breakfast, so Steve got to focus on you. He got on top of you and kissed you. He loved the way you moaned when you tasted Bucky on his tongue. He loved the way you sank into him. The only thing he loved more was hearing your sighs and whimpers when he touched you. He got to hear your sweet noises until Bucky came back with a huge stack of pancakes. 

When you were done with breakfast, Steve and Bucky let you go into the living room first, where you immediately noticed the large boxes on the table. Steve loved your face when they surprised you. You always looked like you wanted to scold them for being so good to you. He had meant it when he said that he wanted you to get accustomed to this sort of treatment. In the meantime, he’d enjoy how cute you looked when your eyes went wide with surprise. Three stacked boxes. You got the smallest one first and unwrapped the bow and looked inside. Bucky laughed at how puzzled you were as you pulled out a beanie, scarf, gloves, and earmuffs—all things you had already brought with you on this trip. Steve urged you to open the next box: winter hiking boots. The biggest box contained a long, warm coat in your favorite color. They had a feeling that you might need some Stark Industries weather protection and yesterday had cemented it—you needed insulated winter gear with a built-in heating system. 

“There’s an overlook I wanna visit,” Steve explained. “A really short hike. That stuff should keep you warm.” You shot him a skeptical look but started to pull the boots on.

“The things I do for love,” you muttered as you finished getting dressed. By the time you walked out of the cabin, though, you really appreciated how much more mobility and warmth this gear already provided you. When you got outside, you laughed at your three half-finished snow sculptures that had been abandoned yesterday for the snowball fight. 

Steve couldn’t help the spring in his step as the three of you set out. When he and Bucky had looked for cabins for a long weekend getaway, he had been sold on this one when he saw pictures of the views from the nearby trail. He’d wanted to break out his paints right then and there, but decided to wait until he had experienced the majestic beauty of the wintry landscape in person. It was a short hike to the scenic overlook, but he still assumed that either he or Bucky would carry you. 

“I can walk,” you said. 

“Are you sure?” The concern in Bucky’s voice mirrored the fears Steve felt. “Your ankle just healed and we don’t want you to slip.” 

“I danced all night on this thing and it was fine. Besides, you’d never let me slip.” 

Steve had to admit that you were right—they’d never let you stumble. Steve led you and Bucky into the woods. It was an informal trail in the beginning—just a path with slightly fewer trees blocking it—and he found himself moving snow-covered branches out of the way as you made your way through, the soft white snow falling to the ground like powdered sugar. That trail soon merged with a more established trail. Instead of walking single-file, you could now walk side by side, although Steve was so enraptured by the scenery that he often wandered ahead, taking in the glint of an icicle frozen to the face of a rock, or the shards of glistening ice that occasionally floated down the creek that ran alongside the path. The water meandered leisurely around snow-covered boulders. The stream got wider and rushed faster as you climbed the snowy path. 

You were surrounded by snow. On the ground, shadows created interesting patterns in the snow from where the sunlight hit the canopy of branches overhead. The bark of the trees looked silver in this light, and their spindly branches shot out at all angles, each branch topped with a tall, thin layer of snow. In the distance, all the tree branches appeared to be white. When Steve heard you hum Winter Wonderland, he realized it was the perfect song for the moment. Before he knew it, he was singing along. Bucky was reluctant to make it a trio until you flashed your puppy dog eyes at him. Steve and Bucky could never say no to you. You were the one person Steve didn’t mind having complete control over him. 

_Later on_

_we’ll conspire_

_as we dream by the fire_

_to face unafraid_

_the plans that we’ve made_

_walking in a winter wonderland_

That line hit Steve differently now, considering all the talking the three of you had been doing recently about your future. He had been more hesitant than Bucky to promise you forever, but now he felt ready to commit fully to your shared vision. When he retired, he realized, he could do stuff like this any time he wanted. You seemed warm enough with your new winter gear that he could take you and Bucky up here every weekend. He’d make sure to alternate with some warmer destinations, too. Previously he had thought of Tony’s private islands as wasteful, but it was _really_ nice to be truly alone with the loves of his life. You had all slept better than usual last night, especially Bucky, and Steve wanted this for you all more often. He thought of Bucky’s retirement plan: when HYDRA was defeated, or when you had your first child, or in three years—whichever came first. Steve had to admit that it sounded reasonable. 

You crossed a footbridge and Bucky insisted on stopping to take pictures. You complained that you were so bundled up that you could hardly be seen, and Bucky helpfully offered to take some photos of you with fewer clothes on when you got back to the cabin, which Steve scolded him for. 

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, Bucky. I thought I made it clear when we met that I was a lady.” You turned to Steve. “Did he tell you that he tried to schedule a dick appointment within 30 minutes of meeting me?” 

“It was at least 45 minutes!” Bucky protested. You rolled your eyes. 

“Dick appointment?” Steve asked. 

“He was trying to sleep with me! That same night!”

Steve gasped. “Buck!” 

“It wasn’t like that!”

You raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t?” 

“Well, I wasn’t _not_ trying to sleep with you, but—” 

“See?! You horny bastard!” You shook your head. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Buck,” Steve said, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. 

“Can you blame me? We have a very sexy girlfriend.” 

“Am I still sexy under ten layers of Stark Industries insulated fabric?” you asked, striking different poses. 

Steve laughed and tugged down the scarf covering your nose and mouth so he could give you a quick kiss. “Very sexy,” he said before replacing the scarf. 

“Speaking of ungentlemanly behavior, Steve,” Bucky said as you continued along the path, “I seem to remember you coming home and telling me and Sam all about this hot girl you met and how you wished you’d had the courage to kiss her.” 

Steve’s face started to heat up. He wasn’t sure why—he had gotten the girl (and the guy!) in the end. He couldn’t believe how far you had come. 

“Come to think of it,” you said. “Steve _did_ make a spicy comment when we first met about all the different ways he could warm me up.” 

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Steve in shock. Steve was even redder now. 

“Hey! I was just going off of what you suggested!” 

“I was only talking about cuddling. Obviously, your mind went elsewhere.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Steve,” Bucky said in a condescending tone, barely able to get the words out without laughing. 

“In conclusion,” you said, “you are both saucy young men and no respectable lady would ever tolerate such behavior. I wonder what that makes me,” you laughed. 

“Best girlfriend ever?” Bucky suggested. 

“I like that. We should put it on a t-shirt! Or better yet, knit it on a sweater!” 

You kept going until you passed the frozen waterfall that signified that you were getting close to your destination. The water was stuck in the perfect picture of a downpour over the stream. A few minutes later you were looking out over the forest and at the snow-covered mountains that surrounded you. A running waterfall jetted out of the face of one of the mountains and traveled tens of feet before it made landfall into a glimmering river. You could see the lake that wasn’t too far from your cabin, and you could see the orange-brown structure that comprised your home for the weekend. 

There was a small cave with glittering icicles adorning its entry, and Steve set up shop in there to provide his art with a little bit of protection from the elements. He spent a moment admiring the landscape and plotting the best ways to try to capture it on canvas. He sketched first, deciding to keep his lovers in the painting. He tried and failed to portray the unpredictable pattern of your curls and the crinkles by Bucky’s eyes when he smiled, but he did his best. He wanted to make sure that he could convey the beauty of his prince and princess. He got to thinking about the book you had read yesterday and imagined those words coming to life in an illustration, but one where the princess had two royal guards. That thought almost distracted him from the scene in front of him. He focused on the landscape, vowing to make that other painting later. 

— — 

_Bucky._

Bucky was so glad he had taken up photography. He wished he had more photos from before. It really would’ve helped him remember. At least he had Steve to paint pictures with his words, and, when all else failed, actually paint or sketch pictures of places they had been and things they had done back in the day. He took some photos of the landscape, but he also took pictures of Steve’s adorable concentration face and how you looked like a cute little purple marshmallow in all of your winter clothes. At least you were a toasty warm marshmallow, rather than a grape popsicle. He couldn’t believe how cold you got after just a little bit of time outside. 

When he was done snapping photos, Bucky came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You pulled down your scarf so that you could feel his cheek against yours. He didn’t know why, but that simple gesture threatened to overwhelm him—your need to touch him, _feel_ him outweighed your hatred of the cold. He tried to memorize the moment: the sounds of Steve’s pencil moving across the canvas, the feeling of having you wrapped in his arms, the light scent of smoke that lingered in your hair from marshmallow roasting and mingled pleasantly with your coconut leave-in conditioner. 

While Steve appreciated the view with an artist’s eye, Bucky knew that you and him felt the same way as you looked out at the landscape: free. Free from the commotion and pollution of the city. He loved it up here. It was still. Quiet. In a natural way. He could see and hear for miles. In the city, there was so much background noise, so much distraction—here he could rest easier, knowing he’d see (or hear) any threats coming from a mile away. All the trip wires he had set up in the miles of wilderness surrounding the cabin also helped him rest easy. Maybe that’s why he was the last one up for once. Steve thought he was always the first one up, and Bucky let him think that, even though it was rarely true. 

“I can’t believe you woke up before me,” Bucky murmured against your ear, the first words that had been spoken by any of you for several minutes.

You laughed. “You’re losing your edge, Barnes.” 

Perhaps he was. That thought used to terrify him, but he was coming around to the possibility that it was a good thing. The thing he feared most in this world was losing you, and yet the place where he felt least afraid was in your arms. You refused to be scared of him. You and Steve truly believed in him and his capacity for goodness. He was more than willing to sacrifice some of his edge for you.

He loved how soft your hands were, and your light touches when you caressed his face or stroked the spot on his left shoulder where flesh met metal. Nobody handled him with that much care. He felt so blessed that you were still gentle with him, even after he had failed you, even though what you had been through could have hardened you. You and Steve watered him, nurtured him, provided him with air, and shone sun down on him with your brilliant smiles.

The least he could do was use those Winter Soldier senses for good, which meant realizing when Steve’s hands were cramped from sketching and needed a massage, or when your ankle was bothering you. He wanted to baby you, as you called it, because you’d never know how good it made him feel when you babied him. When you kissed his knuckles and were so sweet and so gentle with his metal arm—which was made for war—he melted. Your kisses made him feel like he could do anything with that arm, maybe even encourage growth and promote new life.

He was so glad that he had started the greenhouse. He originally started it out of fear and pain—he had never wanted to buy flowers from a street cart again. He identified a vulnerability—always stopping to buy you flowers—and tried to stamp it out. But now he went there and just felt love. As he worked towards growing as many roses as possible over the next few months, he was reminded of his capacity for love. When he first broke away from HYDRA, he felt lost. He didn’t know who he was or if he would ever feel like himself again. Shuri helped him a great deal, but you and Steve taught him how much love he had to give. He would do anything to make you smile, including a top-secret trip to Warsaw next weekend that even Steve didn’t know about. Nat thought he was crazy for doing it, but she was secretly a romantic at heart and agreed to accompany him on the mission. 

When Steve was done sketching, you made your way back down the trail. Bucky tried again to carry you, but you were determined to walk on your own. Bucky wondered how he had ended up falling in love with two stubborn people. Someone upstairs certainly had a laugh when they sent you two his way. He and Steve each held one of your hands as you walked. Bucky enjoyed the feeling of the fresh snow crunching satisfyingly under his feet. The sounds of the babbling creek and the plop of melting icicles and snow falling into the stream from branches overhead soothed him. It was completely peaceful...until you and Steve started belting songs from Frozen II at the top of your lungs. He had to stop you from bursting into dance numbers so that you wouldn’t slip and hurt yourselves, but once you made it back to the cabin, it was on. 

Bucky found you and Steve so darn cute that he’d halfheartedly—and before he knew it, wholeheartedly—started singing along. During the third encore of Into the Unknown, he noticed you slightly favoring your right leg and he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as always. You rested your head against his chest, your arms draped loosely around his shoulders. You sighed and sunk into his arms. He found you so sweet. He knew you didn't love it when he called you adorable, but you were. As you might say, “precious” or “bless her heart”, although he was still learning the nuances of that last one. He wished he could hold you close to him all day every day. He wanted you to feel safe and warm and looked after, always. 

After a while, you settled onto the couches with your journals. You had surprised the boys with them. Bucky and Steve had both gotten standard-issue SHIELD journals in therapy and Bucky had certainly filled a few of those, but these were different. They were beautiful, heavy, and textured—Bucky saw why these journals inspired you to write. They were leatherbound with designs stamped into the cover. They look like the types of journals that Princess Amy and Prince Grant and Prince Buchanan would write their love story in. He looked over to where you were journaling and secretly hoped that you were writing a story in the style of Queen’s Guard. Steve could make some dirty illustrations to go along with it. He would love that. 

He couldn’t keep from laughing a little as he thought about using the word pearl to refer to the clitoris. _That’s a new one_ , he thought. _Kind of ridiculous piece of terminology for that important piece of anatomy._

His musings were interrupted when you anxiously asked him what he was laughing at. 

— — 

_You._

“What are you laughing at?” you asked, checking for the zillionth time that neither of your boyfriends could see what you were writing. Bucky was smirking to himself. He was sitting on the other end of the couch, while Steve sat in the armchair by the window. 

“Just thinking about that book from yesterday.” 

Steve’s head snapped up from his sketch. You and him made panicked eye contact before laughing. You had a feeling that Steve was on the same wavelength. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” you said to Steve. You each bookmarked a page using the attached ribbon, closed your journals, and exchanged them. 

Your mouth dropped when you opened it. You looked at Steve, who was turning pink. He looked down at your journal and began reading. You thanked God that you were right about Steve being on the same wavelength as you. You could tell that Bucky felt a little left out, but you and Steve were too wrapped up in the other's creation. You hadn’t gotten too far in the sex scene you were writing, only a few pages. Similarly, Steve’s was still just a sketch but... damn! When you were finished you handed the journals to Bucky, eager to see his reaction. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning, devouring your words and drinking in Steve’s illustration. 

“And to think I was sitting here, actually journaling,” Bucky said. 

“Hey!” you said. “So was I! I just got...distracted.” 

“Same here,” Steve said. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ready to make cookies?”

You and Steve nodded eagerly. You went into the kitchen and started gathering all of the ingredients. When it was time to make the cookies, Bucky sat you on the counter, ordering you to stay off your ankle. “Take off your shirt, Steve. Our girlfriend needs something to look at,” Bucky said as he removed his own shirt. 

He handed you a bowl of the candy that you would be using to decorate the cookies. “Eat candy. Look at us. Multitask.” 

You admired their strong arm muscles as they mixed the dough and rolled it out. You had lots of shapes: gingerbread men, hearts, Christmas trees, dreidels, snowflakes, Stars of David. Celebrating Thanksgiving had given the boys renewed excitement about the holidays. Bucky had Jewish heritage and Steve had been raised Catholic, and they wanted to celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas this year. That was fine with you. 

You made out while the cookies were in the oven, taking care to set several loud alarms so that you wouldn’t get too carried away and burn the treats. When the cookies were done, Steve couldn’t even wait for them to cool, immediately wanting to taste one and burning his hand and mouth. Bucky sighed and got him a glass of milk to help cool things down. 

“Did you learn nothing from last night?” you asked. 

“It just smells so good!” 

“I know! But wait, like, five minutes!” 

Steve rolled his eyes. A few minutes later, you and Bucky tried the cookies, which were delicious. You were biting into your second heart-shaped cookie when some crumbs fell down your shirt and into your bra. You sighed heavily. You’d be fishing out gingerbread for the rest of the day. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked. 

“I hate it when I get crumbs in my bra!” you said. 

Steve looked at you for a moment before setting his dreidel down on the counter. He lifted your shirt and exposed your bra. You looked at him in question, but he just smirked at you and then dove his head into your cleavage, looking for crumbs. You giggled as he licked the skin. It tickled. He was being so silly, searching around for stray pieces of cookie in your boobs. When he was satisfied that he had removed all the crumbs, he pulled your shirt back down. 

“There. You can call me for all future cleavage cookie removal services you require,” he said. 

You laughed. “Will do. Do you have a business card?”

“I’m waiting on them to arrive from the printer.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm.” 

Once you had eaten several cookies, you finally started to decorate them with icing and sprinkles and edible glitter. Your first few gingerbread men had wonky eyes and misshapen buttons, but you thought that it gave them character. You had pulled up some inspiration pictures on Pinterest of how to decorate snowflake cookies and were working on an intricate design when Steve asked you to take a look at his masterpiece. It was a row of cookies, all expertly decorated with beautiful lettering. When read in order, they spelled out the message: Will You Spend the Holidays With Us? When you looked at the boys, you found them both on one knee, holding out a cookie to you. Bucky was holding a dreidel and Steve a Christmas tree. 

“We were wondering if you wanted to spend the holidays with us. We know that you love visiting your family and we understand if you still want to do that. But we’re doing Avengers Christmas this year and we’d love to have you. If not, we’d still love to celebrate Hanukkah with you.”

“Yes to both.” 

They stood and kissed you. You finished decorating, although now you couldn’t keep the smiles off your faces. You abandoned the cookies in favor of watching movies on the couch. You changed into your pajamas for the movie marathon. You had brought a Wonder Woman onesie that you had loved in high school, but when you put it on you realized that your boobs had grown a lot since then. You couldn’t even zip it up over your chest anymore. You’d have to order a new one because you really loved the Wonder Woman design. 

Bucky’s eyes widened when he saw you. “Wow. You really want to make it difficult to pay attention to the movie, huh?” 

You played dumb. “What are you talking about? My onesie will distract you because it is so awesome?” 

“It will definitely be distracting,” he said, “but not because of the design.” 

“Would it kill you to act like a gentl—”

“Probably.” He walked over to you in a few quick steps and kissed you, kissed down your jaw, and finally kissed your cleavage. 

“ _Bucky_ ,” you whined. “We’re _supposed_ to be watching a movie.” 

He sighed, face still pressed against your breasts. His breath tickled your skin and you giggled. You stopped laughing when you felt his tongue caress the supple flesh. You placed a hand on the back of his head, holding it there, as if he would wanna go anywhere else. 

“Buck…” you tried again to get the movie marathon back on track. He paid you no mind. It wasn’t long before Steve joined you, and it was a while before you were actually ready to watch a movie. This time you picked your pajamas more strategically: baggy shirt and baggy sweats, although you doubted that would stop them. 

As you settled into the couch, you said, “I haven’t worn that onesie in years. I guess it’s time to retire it.”

“Retire it?! Why would you do such a thing?” Bucky asked. 

“Onesies are not supposed to be sexualized! They’re supposed to be cozy and festive.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, “I sure am feeling a lot of Christmas cheer right now.” 

“Oh, hush,” you laughed. 

“If you insist on getting a new onesie, I just wanted to let you know that they make Captain America ones,” Steve said. 

“I know,” you responded. 

Bucky laughed. 

“Just saying, I could get you one,” Steve said. 

“And _I_ could get _you_ one of the Wonder Woman ones,” you said. “You can even leave the top unzipped. That way we match.” 

You all laughed. “I think it’s an even trade,” Steve said. 

When you turned the lights down for the movie, Bucky suddenly said, “Wait! I forgot!” and rushed to the bedroom. 

He came back with a bag whose contents were clinking. Soon he was setting candles all around the cabin: all 3-wick or wood wick. Accompanied by the low fire, the flickering flames were incredibly cozy. The room was soon filled with light holiday fragrances: evergreens like cedar and pine, sweet scents of vanilla and brown sugar, and the spice of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. All the scents worked really well together. 

“That smells amazing,” you said. 

“Thank you. Liv took me candle shopping. She helped me create the right scentscape for our getaway.” 

You laughed. Only Liv used words like scentscape. You could only imagine the two of them spending hours looking for candles. You had agreed to go candle shopping with her once and after hours of sniffing countless candles, you thought you’d lost your sense of smell. You enjoyed the fruits of Bucky and Liv’s hard work, though. You snuggled between your boys, enjoyed the soothing holiday scents, and started the movie. At some point, you looked outside the window and saw that it was snowing, which made you feel even cozier. You eventually fell asleep right there on the couch. 


	3. got my loves to keep me warm

You woke up the next day to movement. You were sleeping between Bucky and Steve, as always, with Steve spooning you. It took a few moments for you to regain all your senses, but when you did, you felt Steve’s arm—which was draped over your side—moving. When you looked, you saw that he was rubbing Bucky through his pajama pants. You felt Steve’s own erection pressed against your ass. 

“Boys,” you whispered, still groggy from sleep. 

Steve just started kissing your neck. You moved your hips so that your ass massaged the front of his pants, getting him even harder. Bucky leaned forward and kissed you softly. One of his hands migrated to the front of your t-shirt. It wasn’t long before clothes were off and hands and mouths were everywhere. Tangled up in each other, it was hard to decipher where you ended and they began. You were thankful that you had put bottles of lube all over the cabin when you first arrived, including on the nightstand. That meant the bottle was in reach when you needed it. 

When Steve finally sank down onto Bucky’s lap, his back to Bucky’s chest, they both sighed. Steve pulled you onto his lap so that you were facing him and guided himself inside you. Your chest pressed to Steve’s meant easy access for him to grab the breasts that he loved so much. To get to Bucky’s lips, you just had to lean forward over Steve’s shoulder. You made out with both of them and Bucky’s hands reached around to knead your ass. 

When Steve’s head fell back against Bucky’s shoulder, you and Bucky attacked his neck. You two conspired to ruin Steve; Bucky snapping his hips up against Steve’s ass, you grinding in his lap, both of you using teeth on his neck—you’d do anything to hear those pretty little noises he made. When he started babbling your names, you knew he was close. You abandoned his neck, preferring to softly kiss his face and tell him how much you loved him. Bucky murmured sweet nothings into his shoulder. One of Steve’s hands left your breast and fell between the area where your bodies were joined, thumb drawing deliberate circles over your clit. His other hand went to your hip, gripping firmly at the flesh there and pulling you even closer, allowing him to drive a little bit deeper inside of you. It was a domino effect—as you clenched around Steve, he moved jerkily between you and Bucky. He came and soon after Bucky did too. You stayed together for a few seconds catching your breath, everyone whispering “I love you,”. The I-love-yous continued even as you separated. 

When you finally got out of bed and cleaned up, you put on a flannel, not even bothering with pants. It was the green one you had stolen from Bucky. It was soft and comfortable and the color complemented your skin tone perfectly. 

“You look amazing, baby,” Steve said, kissing you. 

“Really amazing,” Bucky said. “In fact, that shirt looks a little familiar.” 

“Does it?” You played dumb. You had forgotten the first rule of stolen clothes: don’t wear them around their rightful owner. 

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “It looks better on you than it ever could on me.”

“I’m so glad we agree on that,” you said. 

You all laughed again. 

“I’ve been missing my favorite athletic shorts,” Steve said. “Any leads?”

“Ew, no. Why would I steal your running shorts?”

“Why did you steal Bucky’s flannel?”

“Because I look cute in it!” 

“You could look cute in my shorts!” 

“I don’t know about that.”

“ _I_ do.” 

“Sorry, do you _want_ me to have stolen your clothes?”

“Well, I—”

“Because I definitely have a few t-shirts and a sweater.” 

“So you just use our closets as your personal wardrobe?” Bucky asked.

“Pretty much.” 

“Hardly seems fair, considering we can’t borrow anything of yours,” Bucky said. 

“I have a few t-shirts Steve might like. They might be a little big, though, considering the fit he likes.”

You and Bucky laughed. 

“My shirts aren’t _that_ tight,” Steve protested. 

“They’re pretty tight,” Bucky said, earning him a betrayed look from Steve. 

As the boys went to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, you went to the record player that sat on the end table next to the couch. You looked through the crate of records underneath the table. You put on the only festive music they had: an old-school country Christmas music album. Soon Loretta Lynn’s croons filled the room. 

After breakfast, a little bit of moving your hips side to side as you did the dishes turned into a full-blown dance session. The boys trying to learn how to twerk to ‘A Rootin’ Tootin’ Santa Claus’ had you all collapsed to the floor with laughter. When you had finally recovered from laughing, Steve decided to crawl seductively towards you and Bucky. When he arched his back, you all laughed again until tears ran down your cheeks and you were gasping for breath. Your stomach hurt and if you could have talked, you would’ve warned the boys not to do anything else to make you laugh. You weren’t capable of speech, so looked on helplessly as Steve lay face down on the ground. He was already laughing as he lifted just his hips and then slammed them back on the ground like Nicki Minaj had done in her Anaconda music video. Where had he even learned this stuff??! It hurt to laugh this much as you struggled to get enough air into your lungs. You had started training with Nat again, but your stomach muscles still hurt from the workout they were getting. 

When you were finally able to gasp, “No more!” you saw the glint in Steve’s eye. You crawled desperately to him—as quickly as you could considering that you were still laughing—and got on top of him, physically preventing him from doing anything else that would make you laugh—you wouldn’t survive! Things finally calmed down so that you only giggled when you made eye contact. It still hurt, but it was a lot more manageable. You went into the room to collect yourself. You needed a distraction, ASAP, and books and movies weren't gonna cut it. You grabbed your bag of knitting supplies and sat on the couch. Most of the giggles had subsided and you asked the boys to join you. 

“I’m really behind on my knitting—do you wanna help?” 

“Sure, but we don’t know the first thing,” Bucky said. 

“Lucky for you, neither do I. I loom knit—way easier to get the hang of.” 

You pulled the colored plastic rings out of your bag. You handed each of the boys a loom and demonstrated how to cast on and start knitting. They seemed to get the hang of it pretty quickly. 

“Who are we knitting these for, anyway?” Bucky asked. 

“When we were in the 7th grade, me and Kiara’s homeroom did a service project where we knit hats for babies and toddlers living in shelters. We’ve done it ever since. Now all of our friends do it, too. We donate as many hats and scarves as we can before Christmas. Brandon’s been making a hat a day for the past month! I’m behind on making hats because the past few weeks have been so crazy, which is why I’ve enlisted your help.” 

“Happy to help,” Bucky said, deftly looping the yarn around the pegs of his loom. He worked quickly. He was actually a lot quicker than you. 

Steve, on the other hand, was having a lot of difficulties. First, the stitching got too tight so you had to help him fix that. A few minutes later, a hole appeared in his hat. Rather than ask you about it, he tried to keep knitting in hopes that it would get covered up, but somehow managed to get everything all tangled. It was so bad that you had to call Liv for advice. She had been a needle knitter before she met you, and often made baby blankets to give away during the holidays. When you Facetimed her and showed her Steve’s mess, she advised that it was probably best to start over. You thanked her and hung up, trying not to laugh at Steve’s dejected face. 

He collected himself and tried again, only this time the problems started cropping up sooner. He sighed exasperatedly for the 50th time, putting his loom down on the couch beside him. “I’m going to make us some drinks,” he said. 

You and Bucky looked at each other and shared a secret laugh as Steve banged around in the kitchen. You didn’t know what kind of drink he was making, but it required use of the stove and a rolling pin and took a good fifteen minutes. When he finally came over with his tray of three glasses, you immediately saw why. The drinks were adorable! Martini glasses with a crushed gingerbread rim, a creamy cocktail inside, and gingerbread cookie garnish. 

“Awww, Steve! It’s so cute!” you said. 

“It’s adorable,” Bucky said. “What is it?” 

“Gingerbread martini, of course!” Steve replied. 

You took a sip. It was sweet but strong. “Are you trying to get me drunk? If you want a lapdance, you can just ask.” 

He laughed. “I added some Asgardian liquor to me and Bucky’s drinks so that it’ll be equal. If we get drunk, we’ll be doing it together.” 

“Nice,” Bucky said, reaching for a glass. 

Steve pulled the tray back. “I was hoping we could enjoy these in the hot tub,” he said. 

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit!” you said. 

“Neither did I,” Steve smirked. 

He put the tray down on the table and removed his shirt. He looked at where you and Bucky still sat. “Strip,” he commanded. 

You stripped and grabbed your drinks and then Steve went to the door and opened it. You paused. You _really_ didn’t want to go out there naked. You already had goosebumps from the frosty air rushing in through the open door. 

“I don’t know, Steve…” 

“C’mon. You’ll be warm in the tub. I promise.” 

“Fine. But I’m only doing this because you’re cute.” 

He grinned before heading outside. _It’s only a few steps to the hot tub. You can do this._

“You still haven’t moved,” Bucky said. 

“Thanks for the update,” you grumbled. 

“I was just making sure you knew that your legs weren’t moving. In case you weren’t aware.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. 

_You’ll only be cold for two seconds._

“Let me just grab my jacket,” you said. 

“It’s a five-second walk. You do not need a jacket.” 

“Speak for yourself.” 

Bucky handed you his glass. “Hold this, please.” 

“What—” 

He picked you up and walked outside. 

“It’s _freezing_ out here!” you whined. 

Bucky chuckled as he gently deposited you in the hot tub next to Steve. The warm, bubbling water immediately soothed most of the chill, but you shivered as the wind hit your shoulders. Steve put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his body so you could feel his warmth. Bucky got in and sat on the other side of you, draping his arm around your shoulders as well. Between the two of them, you were starting to warm up. Bucky took his drink back from you and you all clinked glasses. The gingerbread martini was sweet and spiced and festive and delicious, and you told Steve as much. 

“When you retire, you’ve gotta be a barista or a bartender,” you said. 

“In the meantime, I’ll happily serve as your personal barista/bartender,” he said. 

“When I was in college, Liv and I frequented this amazing little cafe that had cocktails made with coffee and tea. It was super cozy and had live music. There was this cute barista that worked there on Thursday nights that Liv had a crush on. I could see you having a place like that and being the barista that everyone swoons over.” 

“I’d go there every day,” Bucky said. 

“Me too,” you said. 

“Maybe it’ll happen,” Steve said. “The possibilities are endless.” 

Indeed they were. You took a moment to appreciate the landscape. The snow-dusted trees and mountains and the setting sun glinting off the snow. You could see the lake between the trees and it was alight with the sun, reflecting the oranges, reds, and yellows of the sunset. Once the sun had completely set, it got even colder, if that was possible. 

“Stevie—”

“Just a few more minutes.” 

You sank lower so your chin rested on the top of the water. Steve chuckled as he reached for you and sat you on one of his legs. Your back to his chest, he wrapped his strong, warm arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” 

You rolled your eyes but relaxed against him. He really _was_ keeping you warm. You could almost enjoy the crisp night air and the stars shining in the clear skies, but you were still a little cold. Bucky soon fixed that. He got in front of you and put his hands on the ledges of the tub on either side of you, caging you and Steve in. He leaned forward so that your chests were touching and you instinctively pushed your chest forward, pressing your breasts against him. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s back, bringing him even closer. Bucky leaned in and murmured, “Warm enough?” against your lips. 

“I could be warmer,” you teased.

He and Steve made eye contact over your shoulder and exchanged mischievous grins. 

“On it.” He captured your lips in a kiss. 


End file.
